The electric fan has ingrained dust
On its blades. It sometimes wakes itself
On a cold winter day and whirrs officiously.
Older even than the broiler I took to school
It has outlived so many appliances
Even the Grundig radio that, on clear nights,
Brought Canada and Wheeling, West Virginia
To suburban New York. If the old fan thinks
I need cooling when it's 14 degrees
Who on earth am I to say it's not right?
